


Most powerful is he

by mercuriosity



Category: due South
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-09
Updated: 2005-09-09
Packaged: 2017-10-13 00:11:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercuriosity/pseuds/mercuriosity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray Vecchio, after <i>The Deal</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Most powerful is he

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "No Power" challenge at ds_flashfiction.

_"Most powerful is he who has himself in his own power." ~Lucius Annaeus Seneca_

 

Ray knows what it's like to feel powerless. He's felt that way for far too much of his life, and he's tired of it; sick with it. His father taught him first--all about fear, and power, and how the two go hand-in-hand. Taught him so hard it left permanent marks. Later on, bullies like Frank Zuko came along and showed him just how scared he was, how powerless. It's a lesson that's stuck with him all his life.

Then those thugs roughed up Fraser pretty bad after their failed attempt to get Joey Paducci out of town, and Ray had an epiphany.

He'd come to see Fraser as invincible, somehow beyond human weaknesses and fears--like the kind that prevent normal people from staring down armed criminals with nothing but a stupid hat and a Let's-be-reasonable-here voice. He's seen him jump off buildings and dig through dumpsters and come out on top every time with not a hair out of place.

Seeing Fraser's face like that, bruised and bloody, released something ugly inside Ray. Suddenly everything seemed so clear, so perfect. If Fraser could be brought down by some two-bit borrowed muscle, why the hell should anything else be sacred?

He doesn't remember much after that, that one moment when everything lined up and went _click_ in his head, and the next thing he knows there's blood dripping from his knuckles and Frankie Zuko is lying on the floor like a dog and looking up at him like he's the walking embodiment of God's wrath. Or maybe the devil. _Terrified_. Fucking _perfect_.

He feels elated, uplifted. He feels like he could fly. But it's too brief. He hears Frankie say it:

"Deal," in a voice all choked up with his own blood and hate and fear. And Ray's won, he got what he came for, and all of a sudden his hands are shaking.

Is this power? This sick, dizzy feeling in his gut? After all, Frankie has power because people fear him. Now he knows fear, it follows that Ray should feel powerful. It's a trade; it's supposed to be a trade. That's how it's supposed to work, isn't it? But hearing Frankie like that, suddenly he's more scared than he's ever been before.

He says some words he doesn't hear, and then he's unlocking the door with numb fingers and walking outside. Somehow he makes his way back to the car, slides into the driver's seat, careful not to touch the upholstery.

"How are you?" says Fraser, from the passenger side. Does he not notice the blood drying on Ray's hand, or does he just not say anything?

"Scared to death."

"That's probably wise," Fraser says, and hands him his gun. Ray takes it, shifts the Riv into gear.

It's not Frankie or his thugs that Ray's scared of, but he doesn't tell Fraser that.


End file.
